Parenting is a journey filled with choices, and it’s natural to have a few regrets along the way. For instance, I sometimes wish I had taken my son’s pacifier away sooner; now at two years old, he clings to it as if it were a lifeline. I also spent countless hours fretting over whether he was reaching developmental milestones like walking or talking on time. And let’s not even start on the car seat that seems to tangle at every opportunity. These are minor regrets, mere blips in the whirlwind of everyday parenting that don’t weigh heavily on my mind.
However, the decision to have another child looms large. I fear making a choice I might regret for years to come. I firmly believe that there’s no universal answer to the question of how many children to have. The age-old stereotypes about only children—that they are lonely, selfish, or neurotic—are simply not accurate. I don’t believe my son will be lonely or an outcast if he remains an only child. The key to his happiness and ability to connect with others lies not in having siblings but in how we nurture him as parents. As a teacher, I’ve had the privilege of knowing many wonderful only children who are thriving.
After two years of sleepless nights, colic, and the beautiful chaos of infancy, I finally feel like I’m rediscovering myself. I’m embracing a new version of “me,” one that has more room for personal and professional pursuits. I adore watching my son grow and thrive, and I don’t feel that our family lacks anything without additional children. Right now, I feel complete with just one child, but with my 39th birthday approaching, I realize that my window for making this decision may be closing.
My perspective has been shaped by personal experiences that cast doubt on my instinct to stop at one. When I was 30, my father passed away from cancer at 53. My siblings and I lived far away, while my parents enjoyed their retirement in Florida. The moment I learned of my dad’s illness, my sister and I shared tears over the phone, understanding that our lives were forever altered. When it became clear that time was short, we all gathered together, holding a somber vigil.
The day my father died is etched in my memory—the scents, sounds, and the warmth of the sun on the porch. I remember my brother comforting me as I grieved, and at his funeral, I found solace in knowing my siblings would voice everything I couldn’t. My brother eventually moved in to help our mother, while I returned to my life, grateful for the support of my siblings during that time.
Reflecting on my upbringing, I can’t imagine my life without my siblings. Their presence has consistently added joy and support through life’s ups and downs. Even though I’ve been trained in research methodology and understand the data surrounding family dynamics, this decision feels deeply personal—almost as significant as matters of life and death. The fear of future regrets weighs heavily on me. While studies suggest that only children can lead just as happy and fulfilling lives as those with siblings, my emotions tell a different story.
I recognize that my current feelings as a mother and individual are only one part of a much larger equation. The family journey is long and filled with unexpected challenges and joys, and I worry about denying my son the opportunity to share those moments with a sibling. My rational side can analyze research and listen to others’ experiences, but ultimately, this decision comes down to my heart, which remains uncertain. I find comfort in the evidence supporting the well-being of only children, yet it doesn’t resolve the emotional complexities of this choice.
For more insights on family planning and the journey of parenthood, check out this blog post. Additionally, Make A Mom is a fantastic resource for anyone navigating the world of fertility and family-building options. If you’re considering IVF, UCSF’s site offers excellent information to guide you through the process.
Summary:
Choosing whether to have another child is a deeply personal decision filled with both hope and uncertainty. While societal stereotypes about only children persist, the reality is that many thrive without siblings. The journey of parenting is complex and emotional, and every family’s story is unique. Balancing personal desires with the potential for future regrets can make this decision feel monumental.